She gave a sob, and fell on my shoulders.
"Oh, is it true—is it true? Pinch me, that I may awake if this is but a happy dream!"
"You are ready?"
"This moment."
"There's just one other little matter, ma'am—your jewels. You won't leave them to your enemies, I suppose?"
This was the dangerous moment, and I felt a twitch of the nerves as I watched her face to see how she would take the suggestion. But the poor silly soul turned up her eyes to mine, all full of tears and confidence.
"Dearest, I am old, old. Had you come earlier, my beauty had not wanted jewels to set it off. But now I must wear them to look my best—as your bride."
She hid her face in her hands for a second, then turned to the dressing-table, lifted her jewel-case and put it into my hands.
"I am ready," she repeated: "let us be quick and stealthy as death."
She followed me to the window and looking out, drew back.